


The Innocent Can Never Last

by thaliagrayce



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, Mentioned Luke Castellan - Freeform, Mentioned Percy Jackson, Past Character Death, Set Between Sea of Monsters and The Titan's Curse, Trans Character, gratuitous use of outdated technology, sort of not really about that character death thing but better safe than sorry, the lightning thief was published in 2005 baby! this is a period piece!, this will hurt! but in a good way!, trans annabeth chase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thaliagrayce/pseuds/thaliagrayce
Summary: The "since Luke left" went unsaid, but hung like a summer thunderstorm in the silence after his words. Thalia looked down at her hands, at the few freckles dotting her knuckles and fresh black nail polish she and Annabeth had applied together yesterday. The two of them had spent an hour sitting together like that, painting each other’s nails while Annabeth quizzed her about important global events that had happened while she was out and people she should probably know going forward. It wasn’t hard to imagine him here with them if she thought about it, which is why she didn’t let herself think about it.Life was simpler when she was a tree.(or, Thalia figures out how to navigate life after waking up from the world's weirdest 7-year coma.)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22
Collections: It's Time You Heard Our Story





	The Innocent Can Never Last

**Author's Note:**

> Alright y'all this is Thalia-centric and it made me cry when I was writing it. If you're still down to read it, hell yeah! Welcome! It takes place about two weeks after she wakes up from being a tree, because I think there's a whole trove of untapped potential there. She's just been basically in a coma for seven years and we skip over her readjustment period completely. She was at CHB for the rest of the summer, what was that like???? Who were her friends???? What did recovery look like????? Is she. Like. Is she okay????? She was in that tree for SO MANY world events. Someone had to tell her about 9/11. Tomagotchi was still a popular thing when she made her last stand.

Her roots were just barely starting to show. She leaned over the shitty drugstore pocket mirror she had propped against the windowsill above her sleeping bag and pulled some of her short hair straight up, squinting at the half centimeter of blond that had crept up underneath the black. She would have to dye it again soon, but it was almost a miracle that it was only half a centimeter. Her hair used to grow a lot faster, before she was a tree.

Whatever. Maybe this meant it was time to finally get that buzz cut she’d always wanted; she would have enough time enough to enjoy the way the short dark hair looked on her head before it grew out blond again. For now, though, all she did was ruffle her hand through it to cover the blond as well as she could and made sure her eyeliner was properly smudged before getting out of her makeshift bed.

She ignored the haphazard stack of orange t-shirts piled next to her duffel bag that some Hermes camper had brought her the first week she’d been there. Changing in the middle of the day felt kinda stupid, but it meant that she’d already checked off her Camp Spirit for the day. Nobody could tell her to change. Today was a black tank top kind of day, anyway. The last thing she grabbed before leaving was the dark blue UC Berkeley drawstring bag she’d kept with her on the road, torn in a few places and with half the yellow logo faded to illegibility. Its contents clanked as she threw it over her shoulder and pushed the door open.

The late afternoon heat of July hit her without mercy as soon as she opened the cabin door, and she had to screw her eyes shut against the force of the sunlight. It felt like a completely different world out here, with kids yelling to each other from across the basketball courts and chasing each other around with swords and screaming when they fell off the climbing wall. The inside of the Zeus cabin must have been soundproofed, because it always felt so cut off from the rest of camp—you couldn’t hear anything but the rumble of thunder from in those walls. Maybe Zeus just didn’t like sharing the spotlight.

Changing into a black shirt started to sound like a bad idea in retrospect halfway to the infirmary, but she didn’t let that deter her. She’d worn nothing but hospital gowns and orange shirts since she woke up two weeks ago, and stupid heat and sunlight wouldn’t ruin her first day of freedom. 

Some son of Apollo she recognized was leaving the infirmary just as she got to the door. She nodded at him, trying and failing to remember his name. There were so many _people_ here. She hadn’t really had to learn anyone’s name in years—not anyone that mattered, anyway—and now she was presented with at least five new people every day.

And they all wore _orange_. She’d had an almost constant headache from all the color when she first woke up, which really didn’t help her memory or attention span.

The infirmary was almost empty when she got there, just a couple campers tidying up. Two sharp raps to the doorframe drew their attention to her.

“Fletcher. You got the goods?”

Lee Fletcher was the eldest camper in the room, a skinny dark-skinned boy with dreads tied back in a ponytail and a smile sunny enough to announce his parentage without need to be claimed. He was one of the only people whose name Thalia had _actually_ learned since she woke up. He had been the one in charge of monitoring Thalia during the week that she’d spent stuck in the infirmary, and she was still trying to figure out how to properly say ‘thank you for keeping me alive and sane even after I punched you in the face’.

“You owe me for this, you know.” Lee grinned at her and held up one finger in a ‘one second’ gesture, then jogged to his bag in the corner. While he shuffled around in it, Thalia shrugged her bag off her shoulders.

“I had to cash in a favor with Travis Stoll for this. You know how much those are worth?”

“He’s one of the Hermes ones, right?” Thalia stepped into the room and leaned against the wall. “Just tell him it was for me, then he’ll have something on the new kid. You’ll be fine.”

“Here we go!” He straightened up and crossed the room to her, holding out a smuggled CD case. “Brand new, pristine condition. Come back to me when you realize Nimrod is child’s play.”

She took the case and immediately wanted the album art on a pin to add to her jacket—a white hand holding on to a red heart-shaped grenade. Nice. She wouldn’t admit that to Lee yet, though.

“Come on. You’ve _heard_ Nimrod, right? How can you be so confident I’m gonna like this one more?”

“Because Good Riddance is the only song worth remembering on the entire album. Just trust me, American Idiot is gonna blow you away.”

She smirked at him and shoved the CD into her bag. “We’ll see about that. Thanks for getting this for me.”

“No problem. Once you’re done with that, I’m gonna introduce you to My Chemical Romance” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to her, sighing with a bittersweet smile. “It’s just nice to have someone else around who has good taste in music again.”

The _since Luke left_ went unsaid, but hung like a summer thunderstorm in the silence after his words. Thalia looked down at her hands, at the few freckles dotting her knuckles and fresh black nail polish she and Annabeth had applied together yesterday. The two of them had spent an hour sitting together like that, painting each other’s nails while Annabeth quizzed Thalia about important global events that had happened while she was out and people she should probably know going forward. It wasn’t hard to imagine him here with them if she thought about it, which is why she didn’t let herself think about it.

Life was simpler when she was a tree.

Lee cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms, tapping the wall behind him twice before pushing off of it. “I, uh, gotta get back to work. You think you’ll start listening before dinner?”

She looked up at him and smiled, but even she could tell it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh yeah. I’ll have a full analysis double-spaced and printed for you by six.” Lee huffed a laugh, and she considered that to be a step forward. Awkward atmosphere who? She could have more than two friends.

“Good. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.”

She sent a wave over her shoulder as she stepped out and made a mental note to talk to him about the album tomorrow. She liked Lee. She wanted to be his friend and was determined to put in the work to make sure that happened, but she wasn’t going to be at dinner tonight. There were more important things on her agenda than team dinner.

The sun was hanging a little closer to the horizon now; not close to sunset yet, but the heat had lost its intensity. She had to get a move on.

Campers stared at her when she was out and about sometimes, which really wasn’t her favorite thing. She’d had enough unwanted attention from the public to last a few lifetimes already. Usually people cared about the other parent, though. The Hephaestus kid coming out of the forge probably didn’t even know who Beryl Grace was, let alone see her wide blue eyes and signature smile on Thalia’s face.

It wasn’t much better, but at least being a child of Zeus came with power. The stare she got now wasn’t just curiosity, it was respect.

She stared down the Hephaestus kid as she walked past, and they had the decency to look embarrassed about staring. Good.

She got halfway to the dining pavilion before she was interrupted again.

“Thalia!”

Annabeth was taller than her now, which didn’t feel like something that should be allowed. When she bounded over to Thalia, all smiles and curls and bright orange t-shirt, Thalia actually had to look up to meet her eyes. It was strange. She had started to think of Annabeth as a little sister somewhere along the road, and when she woke up again, she realized she had missed—six? Seven?—years of Annabeth’s life. That hit her harder than any years of her own life she had missed. As far as Thalia was concerned, she had died at age twelve and been resurrected at age fifteen and that was that.

But Annabeth was tall now, and smiling at her. Thalia smiled back, real despite the mood she had slipped into since leaving Lee. It wasn’t hard.

“Annabeth! How you doing? Where’s Percy?” The boy was usually two steps behind Annabeth, or she was two steps behind him, and they were usually bickering loud enough for half the camp to be able to make an informed decision on whose side they would take if asked.

Annabeth made a face at his name, but she also blushed a bit. Thalia bit back her smirk. The kid tried, but she couldn’t hide her true emotions for anything. She liked to pretend she didn’t drag him around everywhere, but Thalia had only been back for two weeks and it was already a little weird to not see them together.

“I don’t know, doing Percy things? We’re not attached at the hip, you know.” She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and Thalia watched it bounce.

That was another thing. Her hair was long now. The day after Thalia woke up, Annabeth had come to sit with her in the infirmary, just to be with her for a while and drink in each other’s presence. Thalia had reached out a hand and touched one of her curls, tugging it a little and watching it bounce back to join the rest. When she had looked at Annabeth’s face again, she had tears in her eyes and a wobbly smile on her mouth.

“It suits you,” Thalia had said. It was true. Annabeth looked so much happier now, so much more confident. She looked as proud as Thalia felt.

Now, tan and tall and comfortable enough to be blushing in the sunlight, it was clear that this place had become her home in the years Thalia had been gone. For a moment, she was hit with how much she had missed.

“We should get our ears pierced together.”

Annabeth blinked at her in surprise. She might have been talking while Thalia wandered into nostalgialand.

“But you already have pierced ears.”

Of course she had pierced ears, she’d grown up with a famous mother who cared more about her baby’s image than the person behind it. Thalia had pierced ears since before she could talk. She also remembered Annabeth being transfixed by her earrings when she thought Thalia wasn’t looking on the road, though. Thalia had missed seven years and hadn’t been able to support Annabeth through most aspects of her transition, but this was something she _could_ be around for.

“I want a double piercing, we should go together.” Thalia squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, looking at Annabeth with challenge in her eyes. “Unless you’re afraid of needles, of course.”

Annabeth bristled, which was exactly what Thalia had been hoping for.

“I’ve faced fully-grown cyclopes and a boat full of angry monsters and the Lord of the Dead himself. I think I can handle one needle.”

“Good. We can sneak out later this week.”

“Or,” Annabeth corrected, “we could wait for September. Chiron told me to find you, he said he snagged a spot for you at the boarding school I’m going to this fall. It’ll be a lot easier to get into the city from school.”

Thalia immediately felt lighter, like a weight she hadn’t even known was there suddenly lifted from her shoulders. A week ago, Chiron had broken it to her that she probably had to stay at camp all year round because of how strong her aura was. She’d been going to the Big House every morning to train with the Mist, but he made sure her hopes didn’t get too high—she needed to get _good_ good before she would be able to safely leave camp.

“For real? He actually said that?”

“Yep! We won’t be roommates, but we’ll be in the same dorm. It’ll be super easy to find me if something goes wrong.”

That meant less of Annabeth’s life that she had to miss because she was sidelined. More time when she could just exist with her little sister, learn who she had become in Thalia’s absence. Learn who she would grown into.

“Sick, you can help me study. I haven’t been to school since I was like seven.”

Annabeth laughed at that. “Neither have I, this is gonna be an interesting year.”

One of Annabeth’s sisters ran over to get her after that, something about an argument about beach volleyball rules getting a little too heated. Names were called, swords were drawn. That seemed like a pretty common occurrence here, though, so Annabeth hadn’t looked too worried as she hugged Thalia and said goodbye. The sun was dipping a little closer to the setting point, anyway. Thalia was running out of time.

A few dryads were setting up the dining pavilion for dinner by the time she got there. If she didn’t want to be stuck waiting for everyone else, she had to be sneaky about how she got her shit. Luckily for her, living on the streets for your formative years was a pretty good way to learn how to get in and out of a place undetected.

The first trick was knowing exactly what you were going to take before you went in to get it. She skirted around to the back of the pavilion and hid behind a column. The table farthest from her held a huge bowl of peaches—easily bruised but still easily grabbable. Closer by, a dryad with stick-straight brown hair wheeled a big dish that kinda looked like a boat with a cover out on a cart, and Thalia dismissed that immediately. Nothing portable was kept in a container like that—it was probably pasta night, or some kind of soup or something. Unless she wanted to ruin her bag and everything in it, that wasn’t an option.

More than one peach, then. That was fine. There was a big basket of fresh rolls next to the probably-pasta, and they smelled _good_. She’d had worse meals than fresh bread and peaches before.

The second trick was confidence. If you looked like you knew what you were doing, you were a lot less likely to be stopped while you did it. Thalia waited until the dryad had gone back into the kitchens, then walked out from her hiding spot with her shoulders set and her posture relaxed. Carefully casual. She managed to get to the bread and stick three rolls into her bag without drawing any attention at all.

Walking toward the peaches put her directly in the path of another dryad, though. She was just headed out of the kitchens, carrying a platter of still-steaming brownies. She blinked at Thalia twice, and her green eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“It’s not time to eat yet, what are you doing back here?”

 _Confidence_ , she reminded herself.

“I was sent here.” Confident statement, confident tone. She was doing great.

The dryad narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really? By who? Why?”

Maybe confidence only worked if you had the conviction to back it up. She thought briefly about just getting out of there, but then she remembered that she was getting daily lessons in bullshitting other people. This was a harmless enough reason; she was sure the nymph would understand, and Chiron would probably be fine with her practicing at camp.

Probably.

She breathed in through her nose and thought of what the dryad saw: some punk teenager trying to sneak food before dinner. There had been a moment of recognition, though, right before the suspicion set in. She knew who Thalia was.

Thalia waved her hand in the air, disguising it as adjusting one of the straps on her shoulder. She put both breath and intention behind her words, and prayed to her father that it would actually work.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get in your way. I can’t eat with the rest of the campers for medical reasons tonight. I won’t be much of a hassle, I’m just going to grab a peach before the crowd gets here and I can’t leave.”

The dryad blinked. Her eyes went a little hazy, which immediately filled Thalia with equal parts elation and guilt. It had worked, but she had just preyed on this woman’s kindness. The fact that the words were mostly true was a bit of consolation, at least.

“Of course. Take a brownie, too. I hope you feel better soon.”

She felt bad, but not bad enough to not take a brownie. They smelled fantastic.

After that, she had no trouble getting at the peaches and slipping a few of them into her bag. As she walked away, she heard the squeaking of wheels and the clinking of plates—the harpies had come in to set the tables. She’d gotten out just in time.

Now she just had to get across camp without being noticed and pulled in with the dinner rush. Cutting through the middle of the cabins was the most direct route, but it was also guaranteed to get her seen by well-intentioned curious eyes. She eyed the amphitheater. Going around the far end of that would take more time and would take her closer to the magical camp border than she should go, but it was also the most hidden option. It was probably fine. She had her shield, she had a butterfly knife in her pocket. She took the long route.

As she was skirting around the raised seating, a laugh carried up from the stage—someone must have been using it. The laugh stopped her cold, pulse running wild. Her brain knew that it wasn’t Luke, it couldn’t have been Luke, but—

“Cut it out, Trav! I have a reputation!”

There it was again, the laugh. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, ignored the sudden heat behind her eyes. Of course. The Stolls. It really was incredible how similar siblings could be.

“What reputation, dude? You snorted chocolate milk out your nose last week.”

Thalia hiked her bag further up on her shoulder and walked faster. She’d been stupid. Luke wasn’t here, and it would be a serious threat if he was. She knew that.

She still wasn’t sure if her reaction had been happiness, fear, anger, or a fucked up mix of all of them.

Finally, the giant pine peeked out from the other side of the amphitheater. She gave the entrance a wide berth, not wanting to be seen and not wanting to hear anything more. She focused on the silhouette of the tree against the sky. Even after two full weeks, it felt wrong to look at it from the outside. Like looking down at her hand but not recognizing it as her own.

As she got closer, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d never cared about the scent of pine trees before she’d become one, but now she found herself missing it. She’d technically lived in a pine tree for longer than she’d ever lived almost anywhere else, and her memories of Beryl’s house were both distant and stressful. Cedar, fir, and juniper were the first scents she thought of when she heard the word “home”. Demigod life might be confusing and she might be completely out of the loop, but at least this tree was, too. She could breathe easier as she approached.

The baby dragon that had gotten there earlier that week—Peleus—lifted his head as she got closer, but lowered it again immediately when he saw who it was. The rest of the camp was still pretty uneasy around him, but Thalia didn’t quite get it. He was about the size of a Great Dane and just as affectionate as one, if he trusted you.

He didn’t trust a lot of people yet, though. He knew that Argus was the guy that brought him food and Chiron was the one who clopped away in a funny way if you sneezed fire, so they were okay, but the rest of camp was on thin ice.

He’d never minded Thalia, though. She kind of thought he still recognized her as part of the tree, or maybe he recognized the tree as part of her. Whatever. The dragon loved her, which felt pretty damn good. She patted his head once as she passed his napping spot, and he rumbled something that sounded like a purr but much, much deeper.

She took off her bag and sat heavily on the other side of the trunk, staring out over the forest at the almost-setting sun. In the distance, the conch shell sounded, followed by a loud _bang_ from somewhere around the armory. Probably one of the Hephaestus kids experimenting for the fireworks show. It wouldn’t be for another few days, but camp had been plagued by random crashes and explosions all week. She was getting better at not reacting, getting more used to this camp and all of its eccentricities.

She took the beat-up blue CD player out of her bag, the only relic she still had from her time at home. She’d left Beryl Grace’s house with a duffel bag full of clothes, an entire loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and her trusty CD player. Back then, she only had a Wham! CD that some well-meaning friend of her mother had given her, something that she’d lost somewhere between Montana and Wyoming. The big black over-the-ear headphones that she pulled out next were more recent, but still pretty old by current standards. Luke had stolen them for her from a Radio Shack in Georgia somewhere, as an apology present for some dumb mistake he’d made that day. She couldn’t even remember why she had been mad, but she remembered the way he smiled at her excitement.

She didn’t like dwelling on Luke, but she figured she had one day a year to be sorry for herself. She deserved it. She took the CD Lee had given her out of its case and popped it in the player before bringing out one of the peaches.

The album was good, Lee was right. Better than Nimrod. She let it play as she cut up the peaches with her butterfly knife and ate them, either sliced on top of the bread or just plain. They were juicier than they should have been this early in the summer, but she figured it was probably some bullshit divine magic. Everything here ran on it. She bit into one of the rolls, still warm despite the walk.

So Luke was evil now. That’s what Percy said that first day, at least, and Annabeth had looked too distressed to correct him at the time. She’d gotten defensive since then, put her foot down when the topic came up—which really wasn’t that often, whenever both Annabeth and Thalia were in a room—and made sure everyone knew that Luke was still _good_. Just misguided.

Thalia had no idea what to think. Some of the stories about him she understood completely. Starting a rebellion against the gods because they were shitty parents? Yeah, that checked. The two of them had done their fair share of griping about the awful hand they’d been dealt when they were on the run, and there was really no way that blame didn’t rest directly on their parents’ shoulders. Her death had probably made that worse for him, and she sincerely felt for him there.

Hurting kids, though? Especially someone who was so close to Annabeth, someone she clearly cared about? That was a little farfetched. Percy seemed like an honest kid, and everyone else she had asked backed him up on the whole scorpion story (and the several subsequent swordfights), but she still couldn’t quite get her heart to believe that Luke had tried to kill this boy when he was twelve. Percy was still shorter than Thalia, and he had this sharp air around him that reminded Thalia of Luke sometimes. He couldn’t do that, right? She knew him. She _trusted_ him. They had been angry on the road, yeah, but they had taken Annabeth in without blinking. That anger was directed entirely at the gods. He wouldn’t try to destroy the one safe place on the planet for kids like them.

She flat-out refused to believe that Luke had poisoned her. Or—if he had, he had poisoned the _tree_. He thought Thalia was dead, Thalia was _supposed_ to be dead. The tree itself wouldn’t have mattered.

(She didn’t think of the motivation behind poisoning the tree. She couldn’t.)

So some of what she heard had to be bullshit, plain and simple, but…

She’d caught a few people laughing at some of her jokes about him, his harmless quirks and manners of speech, before they caught themselves. They _knew_ him, they’d known him before whatever actually happened went down. Before he became evil or whatever. Some of them had clearly been friends with him—not to the same extent, but still—and they all said he’d done these terrible things. So she didn’t know what to think. They knew him, but maybe they didn’t know him as well as she did.

Then again, maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. People changed. Maybe her best friend became a child murderer.

She wiped the butterfly knife on her pants before she closed it and stuck it in her pocket, done with her peaches and bread. The song that had just started was nice, more mellow and low-key than the rest of the album. It sounded sad, minor chords and a mournful voice, but she hadn’t been paying much attention to the lyrics. She would have to listen to the whole album again before she talked to Lee tomorrow. That was okay, it was good. She would have re-listened to it anyway.

The sun was finally setting for real, and she thunked her head against the trunk of the tree behind her. Whether or not she liked it, whether or not she believed it was Luke, _someone_ had poisoned her tree. Either to get at camp or to get at her specifically, she didn’t know. It would have ended up the same either way. She wasn’t supposed to be awake, she didn’t _want_ to be awake, but here she was. And now, from what Chiron had told her that morning about a prophecy, she was expected to go and kill her best friend on her next birthday.

Welcome back to life, Thalia.

She thought she had died so that Luke, Annabeth, and Grover could be safe, so that they could all have somewhere that would feel like home and protect them from the monsters. Now Annabeth had battle scars all over and Grover had just spent two weeks captive and in terror for his life and Luke had become the monster she was expected to fight and she was still alive, so her sacrifice meant _nothing_.

She took a shaky breath and felt how much cooler the breeze was against the tracks her tears had made. Tonight wasn’t about Luke. She had to move on. There would be time to think about him later.

For now she paused the music at the end of the slow song, but she kept the bulky headphones on. She knew she was less likely to be disturbed like this, dressed in her ripped-up ratty jeans with her angry eyeliner and big black headphones. ‘Difficult to talk to’ was the exact look she had been going for that afternoon. She moved away from the trunk of the tree, but not far enough that her silhouette would be noticeable to a faraway observer. Still under the wide boughs, still enclosed in comfort. She cleared a circle about a foot wide of any pine needles, thankful that a combination of Peleus and shade meant that grass never successfully grew under the tree.

She took a few tissues from her bag and set them in the center of the circle, smoothing down their edges in an attempt to look nice. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Gently, she set the brownie she’d gotten from the nymph in the center of the napkins. Then she took out her old electric blue gas station lighter. She was kind of surprised it still had fluid after all these years, but she was grateful for it. Stealing a lighter or matches would have been a lot harder for her than stealing some peaches.

She lit the tissues. As the flames crept closer to the brownie, she prayed.

“Hey, Hades. It’s me. Again.” The tissue burned out completely, but the moist brownie caught fire, so she guessed he had probably heard.

“I know it’s been a few years. Also you tried to kill me, which wasn’t cool and probably means you hate me, but I get it. I guess. You can hate me, that’s fine. I just—” She swallowed, suddenly aware of how hot her eyes had become. She felt a tear fall onto her arm. If Hades was listening, he probably already knew what she was going to say. She’d done this every year, but she needed to say it again. She needed to.

“Please take care of Jason.” She blinked past the wetness in her eyes and watched the fire spread over the brownie in unnatural colors—blue and white, purple and gold. It smelled like it was baking instead of burning. She hoped that Jason could smell it from wherever his little two-year-old soul was down there.

“I know it’s not cake, but you always liked these better anyway. Happy birthday, bud. Miss you.”

The worst thing about waking up so close to July was that she wasn’t used to the years she had skipped yet. She was fifteen and she shouldn’t have been fifteen and it took her a full minute to figure out how old Jason should have been starting today. 

Twelve. It would have been his twelfth birthday, had he survived past his second. Had Thalia not left him with their mother. Had she run away a week earlier, towing him along behind her. Would he and Annabeth have been friends? What would he think of Luke? Of Camp Half-Blood?

When she’d made her last stand seven years ago, right here in this spot, her final thoughts hadn’t actually been about protecting Annabeth or Luke or Grover. That was her motivation, yes, but her last thoughts had actually been about her brother. There was no way she would get out of that encounter alive, she knew that. She thought she had known that. The last thing she remembered thinking before she woke up was _I hope I get to see Jason again._

She closed her eyes and breathed in the mingling scents of pine and baking brownies. It was July First, and Thalia was allowed to be sad today. She would pull herself together by tomorrow, she always did, but she was allowed to cry tonight.

She opened her eyes and watched the colors as the sun finally dipped to touch the horizon, flames in the sky mirroring the burning brownie in front of her, and mourned for all she had lost.

**Author's Note:**

> (the album is American Idiot by Green Day which YES she was a tree for the release of, and the song she paused after was Wake Me Up When September Ends. She will never be able to listen to that song without crying again. Yes this is technically a song fic.)
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, leave a comment here or yell at me on tumblr (i'm thaliagrayce there, too!) PLEASE if you have ANY thoughts about thalia grace PLEASE talk to me about them, she doesn't get nearly enough attention and i love her so much. I know this was angst but I also have funny things to talk about regarding both her and her post-tree revelations. Also the Grace siblings are my jam, talk to me about Jason, too!!
> 
> Anyway thank you for getting this far, I don't really expect a thalia-centric fic written in the year of our lord 2020 to get much attention, so. if you're still reading this. i am sending you my eternal devotion and a high-quality hug. you're the best.


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